


Behind Closed Doors

by TheClingtons



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Light BDSM, Mild S&M, Out of Character, angst and hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:28:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25678876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheClingtons/pseuds/TheClingtons
Summary: “The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much.” - Ernest Hemingway.A one-shot fic Bill/Hillary S/M fanfic. 1998.
Relationships: Bill Clinton & Hillary Clinton, Bill Clinton/Hillary Clinton
Comments: 12
Kudos: 26





	Behind Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

> This is my work before. This isn't my new multi-chapter fic, but this is supposedly the BDSM that I wanted to work but never continued. I deleted the rest because I am conflicted with how to go about this. I am able to find my old draft in my back up and repaired the story. I hope you like this, just sharing the love. This is unbeta-ed. I hope it's good.

_How do you forgive?_

How many times have I asked this to myself. If not those questions, I would end up asking: _how do you stop loving someone?_

_How do you stop the pain?_

When Bill told me what took place between him and Lewinsky, I felt my heart shred to pieces. The words that came out from me were, "What do you mean?", "What are you saying?", "Why did you lie to me?"

I kept repeating and repeating these questions as if I lost the ability to comprehend. I asked them not because I did not understand what he was saying but because I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

I was on the bed crying and repeating the same questions as if I have lost my mind. Bill was also crying, his tears streaming down his face explaining to me and apologizing as he paced back and forth. 

He explained why he lied - "...it was to protect you and Chelsea."

The betrayal of what he did sear my soul. I defended him for months only to look like an idiot in the end. I cried and the urge to hurt him was so strong, but I couldn't… I felt weak and drained of energy. 

He wanted to hold me but I couldn't stomach him coming closer so I raised my arms and told him not to come near me. I didn't want him to touch me because I feel sick to my stomach. I was disgusted by what he did.

"I am so sorry, Hill. I'm so sorry," Bill repeated, trying to reach me, ignoring my warning. I placed my arms between our bodies and firmly said, "Get away from me!"

He fought - still trying to embrace me, but I didn't want to feel his arms around me so I fought his hold and shouted, "I said get away from me!"

Bill's arms slackened, and he didn't fight anymore. He dropped his arms to his side and he looked at me defeatedly.

"Please, stay away from me. Please, let me grieve." I sobbed then wrapping my arms around myself. I saw him nodded and he turned and went to the next room beside our bedroom.

I didn't hear the rest of the details of what happened. Bill tried not to be graphic but I understood that what happened between them wasn't just a passing moment. It was something more intimate than that.

I asked him if he had sex with her and he said he didn't.

To be honest, that was all I needed to know. I didn't need to know what kind of intimacy happened between them but I have a vague idea of what transpired.

The hours stretched but my tears wouldn't stop from falling. 

_How many times do I have to endure this?_

_How many times do I have to let him do this to me?_

The sinking feeling that Chelsea would find out brought me up from my misery. I straightened and went where Bill was. I turned the knob and I saw him sitting on the couch. His head propped on his hands. He turned looked at me with the ring of his eyes reddish from crying.

"You have to confess to Chelsea," I said plainly but before I left I saw his eyes welled up and before his tears could fall, I turned around and gently closed the door.

Nancy Reagan once said: 'It is true that when you are in the White House alone, it is a lonely place. Big and lonely.' 

The days passed and I feel like drifting. I was miserable but I have to appear stoic. I have to appear strong because the world was watching my every move. I would be damned if they pictured me looking miserable.

It was so hard to remain calm and appear unaffected as I listened to my husband admit that he had an inappropriate relationship with Lewinsky.

I felt people's eyes bore my back as we watched him admit the relationship. My nails were biting on my palm so hard that I wouldn't be surprised if I drew some blood.

To others, I appeared calm and strong as if I am taking it all graciously. Deep inside I was breaking.

I was glad that the testimony was over after some time. I excused myself and went out of the room where we watched Bill.

I didn't have an idea where I was going. All I know was that I needed to get away. I walked not knowing where to go until I could no longer hold it, while I was walking in the hallway leading back to our bedroom I turned to a corner and went inside a small room where cleaners store some of their items. I gently closed and locked the door. 

I heaved, pressed my palms against my face then I broke down and cried. 

***

For months I treated Bill coldly. I didn't speak to him because I was still seething inside. Every day that I see him I was reminded of his betrayal. He continued to apologize to me which was always met with coldness. 

I often wonder if the pain would ever go away because it seems that it was everlasting.

Until one night of October 1998, after we hosted a dinner for the President of Colombia in the White House, it seemed that I have pushed Bill against the wall. I wore a red dress then, not sure what went inside my head to wear such a provocative color. When Bill saw me descend from the stairs I saw the twinkle in his eyes. I knew I had him.

"You look amazing tonight," he whispered as I reached him, but I gave him a dead stare. 

Bill did not attempt to touch me afterward nor hold my hand. If he talked to me I would only give him direct answers. I saw his gaze lingered on me many times that night but I never responded.

It frustrates Bill that I was warm towards everybody except him. What others didn't know, Bill was possessive of me. He did not like anyone getting rather too close to me. He never lashed out though, but he would make that person aware that I was married and that he, the President of the United States, was my husband. 

If I am not mistaken what triggered him was the fact that one delegate was rather too fond of me that night - ogling me, and I was humoring him. The delegate even asked for a dance. Bill cut it when he asked for my hand for a dance but I said that I was tired. 

I felt Bill's annoyance with my rejection, but frankly, at this point, I didn't give a damn. 

When the night ended and we returned to our bedroom, he decided to confront me.

"Until when are you going to ignore me?" 

No response. 

“What do you want me to do?” He asked. 

He said the words in agony. He almost said it in a whisper. I knew he was at the tipping point by what was happening and my silent treatment was his last straw. He was desperate for me to forgive him, but I couldn’t. Not yet anyway.

I thought I could no longer feel any pain considering I have experienced the death of my friend, the failure of my plans for healthcare, and most especially the death of my father. But this pain that Bill caused was able to penetrate the walls that I thought was sturdy enough.

It was disappointing. It was heartbreaking.

But maybe for me not to feel anymore was to feel an incredible pain that could be only given by Chelsea or Bill. Chelsea, of course, was not an option. Bill was my only option. Bill could only give what I need.

For some unfathomable reason, the idea just clicked.

I reached for the buckle of his belt. It took him aback. I unbuckled it. I could hear the clanging of the metal as I undid his belt. He spread his arms on the side befuddled at the moment - wondering what on earth I was doing.

I pulled his belt slowly off from its hoops and folded it in half. My hand gripped the cold metal of his buckle.

I met his gaze straight. I didn’t blink. I was daring him to hold my stare and he did. He held my stare like how he did when we said our vows.

“Do you know what I want?” I asked and it only came as a whisper.

“I’ll give you what you want.”

I nodded.

“I want to feel pain...” I said. 

I said it as if it was the most normal thing for me to want. “I want you to hurt me until you cannot hurt me anymore.”

He looked flabbergasted so I handed him his belt but he did not reach for them. He was looking at me like I lost my mind. 

Maybe I have lost my mind. After all, what I went through it was enough to drive any sane person crazy.

He shook his head. “I’m not going to do that.” He said dismissively.

“Then you leave me no choice...” I said, my hand dropping to the side.

He squinted. 

“I’m going to file for divorce.”

His eyes widened. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it. He was carefully choosing his words. 

“Hillary, I’m not going to do that. Ask me anything other than that.” He bit out.

Silence.

"When did you even become a masochist?" He asked.

"Apparently, when I married you."

He looked at me - stung.

I kept my face straight. I did not blink. It was the truth so I met his gaze unflinchingly.

The silence between us grew. It was like a staring contest: none of us were blinking or moving. The first one who did - loses.

Bill shook his head exasperatedly. I breathed out. He turned and went to the table where his decanter of whiskey was resting. I slowly undid my dress. He watched me as I took them off and I felt his gaze on my back, but I didn't respond. He remained in his position until I was left wearing my underwear. I reached for the cotton white robe and put it on.

He poured himself one last shot and drank it with one gulp. He took another then placed the tumbler on the table. He straightened and placed his hands on his waist.

He knew that my silence meant that it was final. I would not bargain with him nor would I withdraw my offer.

He turned to me and slightly shook his head and rubbed his finger on his lips. “I’m so sorry, Hi’ry.” He bit his lips. “I don’t know how I can gain back what we have lost—“

I cut him by extending my hand with the belt.

“Why do you want me to do this to you?” He asked.

My throat was burning as were my eyes. I felt I was about to break down and cry again. But I didn’t. I had no time to cry then.

“So you could see how much pain I am in.”

He went to me with a few long strides and yanked me in his arms. He wrapped his arms around me. “I’m so sorry, Hillary. I am so sorry.” He repeated.

I didn’t answer and instead kept my hands on my side and he said desperately: “I love you. I don’t want to do this to you.”

It was then that I placed my arms in between our bodies and pushed him hard until he stepped back. “Did you think about that while you were fucking her mouth?”

My message was like a whip that lashed through his skin. He flinched this time.

I saw his jaw bunched. “Is this what you want?”

I did not respond but, instead, extended my hand again.

He took the belt from my hand roughly. I could see the anger in his eyes.

“Okay,” he bit out. “I’ll give you what you want.”

He went back to the table where his decanter was, his strides were urgent and angry. He poured himself another glass. “Take off your clothes and lie down on the bed.” He commanded brusquely.

I knew he was angry. It was what I needed. I took off my robe and my underwear unceremoniously. I neatly folded them and placed them on a nearby chair. I could see Bill taking off his cuff-links then folding his sleeves, and I also saw his hands slightly shaking. I went to lie on my side of the bed with my head turned to the side. I placed my arms on either side of my head relaxed on the pillow. I saw Bill walk to the side of the bed.

He was standing next to where I lay. I turned my eyes to him and he looked at me as if he was pleading to me to tell him not to continue. I encouraged him before he lost his nerve. 

“Do it. Hurt me. Until I cannot feel any pain anymore.”

It was the last thing I said before I saw his hand moved. I held my breath and tightened my buttocks as his hand swung.

I heard a swish and then the leather of his belt smacked on the skin of my rear. I whimpered as the hot stinging pain came after the whip.

_Swish and smack_

_Swish and smack_

_Swish and smack_

I tried to control the pain by biting my lips and gripping my pillow, but whimpers escaped my lips. Bill continued with the belt stopping now and then to give me time to recover.

I never knew that the pain could be addicting. 

I shut my eyes so I couldn’t see what was happening but, even then, I couldn’t escape the nagging thought of how he betrayed me for the period of time that we were married. The pain he caused me was more painful than the pain he was giving me, but the repeated hitting numbed me.

I opened my eyes and took a deep breath as I saw Bill swung the belt and whipped my buttocks the last time. I blinked in pain then looked at him to see his reaction, but what I saw surprised me: Bill’s tears were streaming down his face.

He raised his hand again but instead of swinging it back to hit my rear, he stopped mid-air. A sob escaped his lips and he took a step back. He dropped the belt and continued stepping back until his back reached the wall behind him. He slid down and then wept. He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes mumbling, "I am sorry. I am sorry."

I took a deep breath and continued to lay there as I listened and watched Bill cry. His apologies and sobbing echoed inside our room.

I understood, then, that while the lashing hurt me — it hurt him more.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope to hear your thoughts! Still haven't decided if I will continue this or not because I am not good with 1st person POV, and I don't have any idea how this story will progress but it's hurt/pain/angst. 
> 
> Perhaps I'll consider this after my next multi-chapter fic. :)


End file.
